Life Dictionary
by Kaldus
Summary: Harry Potter was abused. He has learnt to live with it. Severus Snape was a former Death Eater and a Potion Master. He has never forgotten. They met where new beginnings take place. After all the train station is where you start a new journey, isn't it? And maybe it was time to revise their life dictionaries. Slash HPSS, don't like, don't read.
1. A is for Abuse

**That's my second attempt at writing a story in English. I am not a native speaker. Just study in English speaking country. I hope it is not too bad and I hope you'll like it. I will try to get better as the time passes by and I will have more practice and experience. **

**Anyway, warnings: it's a slash with an underage participant. Probably won't be too explicit, since The FFNet has quite harsh policy. It has some abuse (at least now) and it is probable that there will be some descriptions of it. It has some content about drugs, smoking and alcohol. M rating is there for a reason.**

**Finally, I do not own any of the characters (well, besides original ones) and I do not make profit out of this story. It is for fun & fans only. Everything besides plot belongs to JKR. I am just a poor student, so don't sue me, please.**

**Kaldus**

**PS. Maybe I can finally learn the blasted alphabet I have been struggling with since I was four. **

**Chapter** **I**: **"A" is for Abuse**

_(In which the plot begins, Harry Potter is lonely and hurt on the King's Cross and Severus Snape is going on a International Congress of Potions Masters in order to deliver a lecture about his newest invention. And no body is really happy. )_

He was laying on the bench at the King's Cross. As always. Every part of his body was aching. It hurt to be there again only after one week of holidays. Even if it was holidays. With no friends. Friends. They were all laying in the graves. Nothing spectacular. They were meant to be there. He had known it long before he realized his own fucked-up situation. Drug addicts could not stay alive. At least not long enough to be there with him.

He pulled out a cigarette and smoked. He had never taken drugs. He just couldn't. It would not be fair for those, whom were believing in him. The point was to never disappoint them. Especially Dumbledore. He touched his cheeks. Shaving would do a lot of good to his looks.

Harry Potter, the Savior of the Wizarding World, was tired. After a night of work in magical docks, everybody would be. Most of the materials, Harry didn't even want to know, what was there, couldn't be moved with magic. The most desperate wizards went to this place, belonged to the black market, to make money in order to survive. He did it to. Many times, when his uncle Vernon Dursley was ordering him to go away and not come back until… Until some day in the future. Sometimes he lived on the King's Cross just two days, but sometimes a week or more. And he always used his fists and belt to tell him that. The good point was that, by that time, everybody knew him. Even the bodyguards and the police. And nobody cared. Why should they? He was just another one boy thrown out of home.

King Cross was the place of new beginnings. Of starting a new journey. For most people. For him and for others it was their own. The small hell on the face of the Mother Earth. The end of the journey. The place called "I will". He sometimes observed all those people who hurried to catch a train to places he only heard about. They were so occupied with their new trip. So anxious or happy to try something, to see something. To find new opportunities.

One tear run down on his cheek. There were no opportunities for King Cross' kids.

The heroes don't cry. Harry didn't also. Only sometimes, during the sleepless, long nights on the King's Cross he allowed this one tear to go.

Severus Snape, the Hogwarts Professor, ex-Death Eater and spy in the Dark Lord's camp, one of the best Potions Master all over the world, was travelling. He really hated using muggle trains. However, it was the safest way. Especially after his betrayal had become public news. Thanks to the Dark Lord, of course. Severus nearly died during his escape from the Death Eaters meeting. Now he was only the second person on the Dark Lord's list "who-is-to-die-first".

His train stopped. It was finally London. He traveled under his own name. He doubted that the Dark Lord would search for him in a Muggle train. But Dumbledore insisted that he took some forgded documents. _Just to be safe, Severus._ He got out of the train. It was eleven thirty and he had to buy the tickets to Paris. And the cigarettes. He had just run out of those and it would only make him more nervous during the journey. The Congress would not have started for the next 24 hours. He had even time for lunch.

Severus drove up on escalator. He followed the signs, which leaded to the ticket-office. Suddenly, he caught a familiar sight. He turned around and looked one more time. On one of the benches he saw an unexpected view. Harold James Potter. The boy was laying on it. His head and arm were bandaged with some filthy rags. He wore similar damaged, old clothes. They were much too big for him. The shirt looked like someone had to put a lot of effort to keep it from disintegrating. The picture was completed with a cigarette that Potter was smoking.

Once Severus Snape got over the shock and slowly walked towards the lying boy. When he got nearer, he noticed that Potter had a black eye and swollen lip. For nearly everybody he would look like he collided with some door. But not for Severus. He knew everything about fists, belt and other interesting things. There were the words that made his entire life dictionary for a long time.

"May I borrow a cigarette?" he asked.

The boy jumped up and put his hand into the pocket. This wasn't a normal movement for a teenager, no matter how stressed. Auror, Death Eater. Maybe. But not a teenager. Severus knew that Potter probably kept there his wand.

"Professor Snape" the boy sat up. Maybe not a boy after all. Maybe not at all. His eyes didn't look like the kid's ones. Not at all. He never noticed it before. Or maybe Potter was a better actor then he thought. Certainly, he never wore this kind of beaten, broken expression on his face. Anger was what he expected to see. Not a defeat.

"What are you doing here, Mr. Potter?"

"Sitting."

"That I can see. Really. Haven't you learned all those years, that I want the right answer."

"Nothing" muttered the boy, but Severus caught his arm quickly. Potter moaned and tried to free himself. Snape hardened the hold and ripped up one of the sleeves. There were scars and bruises on Potter's arm. Severus stepped back and freed Potter. Some of them were for sure made by the boy himself. Snape sat down.

"May I have finally this cigarette? I have run out of my own." Potter pulled out a packet and throw at him. Snape smoked. He was confused. It wasn't what he expected. Potter bent down and took a big object, which was lying under the bench. Snape looked. It was a guitar. The boy opened a antimacassar and pulled it out.

He touched the strings and moved them slowly.

"Who has done this to you?"

"No one. I felt from the stairs."

"You really think that I would believe such a lie?"

"I'm ok. Everything's fine."

"Potter…" he snarled and stood up violently.

"Is this man treating you or something?" they both heard a voice on the right side of them. Severus turned around and saw a scrawny young man around twenty years. His eyes were gleaming and his skin was unhealthy pale. Severus recognized that he was addicted to drugs. In spite of this his blue lips were clasped with the anger.

"It's ok" Harry muttered. "He is just an old friend, Martin."

"I didn't know you had friends that wore things like that. A tie and a coat from Armani? Jeans from Dolce & Gabbana?" the man looked suspiciously. "Can I not believe?"

"He is my school teacher, all right?" Harry looked angrily. "Go away, Martin."

"I don't think that he is a professor. Teachers don't buy so expensive stuff."

"Just fuck off, before I will kick your ass again."

"You're an idiot. They don't care. No one does. Live with your illusions" he walked away.

"Has he done this to you?"

"No. Martin is just a drug addicted moron. He wanted to… well it doesn't matter" Severus sat down.

"Yes, it does."

"I won't talk about anything with you."

"Potter…"

"Can't you guess?"

"Your family."

"One hundred points to Slytherin."

"It's not funny."

"No. It's not. And?" he put his fingers again on the strings. "Only few things are funny. And rarely."

"Why?"

"Do they really need a reason?"

"No. They don't. At least not an important one."

"How often do you stay here?"

"It's not your fucking business, Snape."

"Whatever you may think, it is my business."

Potter kept being quiet for a while.

"A lot. Four or five times a month. Every time for a couple of days. My uncle's sister is staying with them this week, so… I had to get lost. She hates me."

"Do you have another cigarette?" asked Severus.

"Yeah" the boy opened a packet and gave his professor one.

"Thank you." Snape was thinking. He couldn't drive Potter anywhere. He had only around two hours, before the train left. The apparition was banned since the events in the Ministry of Magic in June. As well as portkeys. But he would never trust Potter to go there alone. He didn't go before, he wouldn't go now. Severus sat silently. He put his bag on the floor. Suddenly, he noticed his passport. The realization came to his mind. He had an invitation for two people. Potter had no clothes, but it wasn't real problem. He could buy him, whatever he needed. Money wasn't an issue. He was one of the best Potion Masters in the world. He made lots of money and never had time to spend them anyway. And changing the photo in one of the fake passports with magic wasn't exactly difficult. Probably Dumbledore will have his head after this, but it was better than let Potter sleep on the train station. And much less dangerous.

"Do you have your wand?" he asked Potter.

"Sure. I wouldn't go anywhere without it."

"Right. You're going with me" Snape stood up.

"What? I'm not. I have a work and everything…"

"You work." Not many people would employee a kid like Potter. Underfed, scruffy, unhealthy looking. They would report him in the muggle world almost straight away. "Where?"

"ndedoks"

"I haven't understood. Speak clearly" Snape ordered.

"In the docks."

"The magical docks?"

"Yes."

"I doubt that you are actually hired there."

"I'm not, but I'm working there, all right." Anger. At least some kind of a reaction. Better than this defeated look.

"You were working in the docks" corrected Severus. "Do you really have anything here that makes you stay?"

"No."

"Then come."

Harry gave up. He put the guitar back to the antimacassar and followed Snape to the ticket-office. He waited a few steps away, when his professor was buying the tickets and then cigarettes. He was a bit surprised, when they reached a small, desolate toilet. Severus pulled out some jeans and shirt from his bag.

"Take it and change. They gonna be too big, but I will fix it in a moment."

Potter looked at him.

"What are you waiting for?" the question wasn't polite at all.

Harry did as Snape told him. Both shirt and jeans were too long.

"I doubt that you're interested in the newest invention in Potions" muttered Severus, when he went out. Two quick wand's movement solved the problem with the clothes. Snape gave him his black Adidas. "Put this on. They should be about right size."

"Right. What about my clothes?"

"Throw them away."

"What?! They are my clothes."

"I'm going to buy new some new."

"Why?"

"You need to look good on the Congress."

"On the congress? What congress? Where are we going?"

"Paris. The International Congress of Potions Masters" Severus put a tie on the Potter's neck. Harry tried to touched it. "Don't move. I have to do it right."

"Why are you taking me with?" asked Potter.

"Because I won't leave you here. Also I have no time to deliver you to the Order of the Phoenix, not after banning all the apparition and portkeys. And I won't trust you to go there, if I leave you here."

"The Death Eaters have their ways to break those rules and not get caught."

"I'm not a Death Eater anymore. The Dark Lord would have had me immediately."

"I forgot about it."

"It's your new name. Don't lose this" Severus gave him a passport.

"Jacques Alexander Orwell? And I'm 22 years old?"

"Try to remember it, Jacques."

Harry nodded.

"Come on. I'm hungry."

They ate in silence. Potter cleaned up the plate.

"You want mine?" asked Snape, pushing his own into Harry's direction.

"Were you not hungry?"

"I'm not a teenager. I don't have to it as much as you. And I have eaten my breakfast. Have you?"

"No."

"Eat it. We have a train in forty minutes."

A few minutes later the plate was clear. Snape paid and they stood up.

"Mr. Potter… Jacques. Have you gone anytime with… some people…?"

"Snape. What are you trying to suggest?"

"You know very well what I am asking about"

"You are trying to ask if I am a prostitute" Potter stood.

"Yes."

"Fuck no, Snape! I would have never done anything like that. I work. I am able to live on my own. And I don't want your pity or charity" he was absolutely furious. "Go to your fucking congress by yourself."

Snape grabbed his arm.

"Potter. I won't leave you here. It's dangerous. The Dark Lord..."

"Fuck Dark Lords, Snape. Take back your clothes and get lost."

"Potter. Look. You can't stay here. And I am responsible for you. I am your teacher. I can't leave a student to be homeless."

"Why not? I can take care of myself. I have been doing so, since I was six."

Snape paled.

"Since you were six." He repeated.

Harry understood that he said to much. His anger left him and the defeated look came back. They were silence for a few seconds.

"Severus" Snape finally said. He took Potter's arm and pulled him.

"What?"

"That's my name. Get used to it. You'll have to use it on the congress."

"Severus. As whom am I going there? As your lover?"

"As my partner, not lover. I wouldn't take a lover to so important meeting."

Potter became silent, evidently shocked.

"Are you crazy?"

"Not at all, Jacques. Would you prefer to stay here?"

"Yes. No. I don't know."

"Come on. We can't be late for the train. And I will have to change those bandages."

**That's it for today. I have two more chapters, but I would prefer to know if it can be read by anyone. So, if you could review and tell me whether I should write or threw it away, it would be great.**

**K.**


	2. B is for Brother

**Thank you for all for following my story and adding it as a favorite. It's cool to see that only after one chapter you would do that. And I appreciate feedback about my language. It's cool it was readable.**

**dear waitingforeternity: I know I don't explain things at the beginning. It's kind of my issue. I never do and it sometimes really pisses off my readers. I promise that as the story progresses there will be some flashbacks of the past events, some dear-hero-who-did-not-want-to-be-one's thoughts that will explain some stuff. Even in this chapter. And unfortunately no beta could ever work with me for longer periods of time. It's almost a full time job and requires infinite patience. I've given this chapter to a friend (native speaker). Hope it'll be fine. **

**K.**

**PS. Never will be mine. I make no profit out of it. It's for fun and fans. Suing me won't do anything good. It would probably cost more then everything I own is worth (including clothes and two Sam Adam's glasses). **

**PS2. Don't expect another chapter so quickly. Maybe next week. I have a test on Thursday. **

**Warning: some death here, some swearing, some smoking and drugs **

**Here you go:**

**Chapter II** : "B" is for Brother

_(In which Harry Potter sees first time in his life anything besides London and Hogwart, has nightmares, remembers his past meets Mr. Jean Baptist Dumont, and see the most expensive room during his life)_

Harold James Potter was sitting in the first-class compartment in front of Severus Snape. They were alone. His professor was changing his bandages. Harry assumed that he had the entire laboratory in his bag.

"I always liked trains. Well, I hadn't traveled much, but Hogwart Express was…"

"The rise to something better, right?"

"How do you know?"

"I worked in the docks. Long time ago."

"That's why you are taking me with? And it's not the full answer."

"Maybe. For both questions."

"It's not like that. I… got used to this. My life was easy. Before school. Before I was a hero. Later everything got fucked up. I'm going to sleep."

Severus nodded and put out of the back his notes. Harry closed the eyes. It was unbelievable. Something that he would never imagine. Severus Snape collect him from this fucking train station. Harry hated being there. And Snape didn't look like always. His skin was healthier and not so yellow. And hair. Harry assumed that his appearance during the school year was an effect of constant brewing.

King's Cross. His probably the only one real home. Since so many years. He knew it better than anything else. The place, from which was no escape. At all. The train station with no real aim of travel. Besides rather distant: 'Some day I will …'. The place, where so many people were only for a second, for him was a stagnation. With so much hope and love, King's Cross was also theirs end. For those, who hadn't managed, who couldn't to stay home or just hated it so much that it was easier to leave it. Buried alive among thousands of people.

Harry liked to observe people, trying to imagine that he was one of them, staying and waiting for his time. For the departure of his… He didn't even know. 'Some day I will…' was a slogan of a homeless with no real perspectives. It was something that Mike had thought Harry. Dreaming keeps you alive and sane enough to survive. Dreaming gives you power to change your destiny. Mike dreamed all his life. He got nothing. The Death had crept to him on one cold night. She had caught him alone and stoned. Mike was his first teacher. His first friend.

Harry's mind drifted to Hogwarts. Hermione and Ron. They hadn't had the slightest idea about life. Book and Quidditch was all they were. Sometimes it pissed him off so much. Their letters about Black… Who cared about Black? He was dead. Dead like so many others. Dead like Mike. And if Harry could choose, who would be with him, he would always choose Mike. And if it weren't for the idiots that insisted on going with him, he would get a prophecy and run away before the Order would even heard about it. He was very good at escaping and hiding. He did that all his life. Death Eaters wouldn't stand a chance. And Black should have stayed at home being a fucking wanted criminal.

Idiots. Why was there no one like Mike at Hogwarts?

Slowly the tiredness overcame him enough to sleep.

_ Harry was staying on King's Cross again. Mike was with him. He was singing. "We are the Champions" made Potter a bit irritated. It always had. Mike looked bad, but his voice was clear. Clear and sad. He tried too many times to stop taking. _

_"Hey, Mike, why are they always travelling somewhere? It's like they have never a chance to stay and think."_

_"You see, brother, they have money. We have us. Thinking. Singing and nothing else. They have no time to dream. We have all time we want."_

_"Until we'll run out of food."_

_ Mike laugh. "Yes. Until we'll run out of food. However, don't worry. We won't."_

_ Harry sat next to Mike. "Do you think that we are already lost?"_

_"Who told you that?"_

_"The guards talked about us yesterday night. I accidentally listened. One said that we are no one. That we are not here. Not anywhere. As if we hadn't existed."_

_Mike took out a joint and smoke._

_"He is a fool, kid. We do. We are here and we should have our dreams, 'cause only there can change us without losing ourselves. Remember it, little brother. Here I will show you how to play my guitar." _

_ The picture changed. Harry was staying above the dead body of Mike. Looking down he couldn't believe. Mike couldn't have died. He had the dreams. To survive and to sing. To play the guitar. To talk about the constantly moving people. To laugh at Harry. And with Harry. To keep him sane and together. Mike couldn't leave him. _

_ He felt the tears on his cheeks. He fell on his knees and shook Mike's body._

_"Don't leave me! I won't manage without you" he whispered. "You promised me, you fucking bastard! Mike!"_

"Jacques! Wake up."

Harry opened his eyes.

"What's up, Sna… I mean, Severus?"

"You were having a nightmare."

"So? I've gotten used to it. It's just a…dream."

"I'm very sorry then" said Snape angrily. "I should have thought that ' you've gotten used to it'."

"Fuck off. I wouldn't sleep at all, if I cared."

"Potter, you may be here, but I am your teacher. So treat me with respect!"

"All right, Professor."

Harry ignored Snape's furious look and opened his cigarettes' packet.

"In the first-class compartment smoking is strictly forbidden" snarled Severus.

"Where can I smoke then?"

"At the end of the carriage. Don't get lost."

"I won't."

Snape concentrated on his notes again. Harry got out of the compartment. He was angry at himself, because he had gone with Snape. At Severus, because he took him. At Mike, because he died, leaving him a guitar and the fucking dreaming. At the world, because it wanted to be rescued, but had not given him anything.

He pushed strongly the door at the end of the carriage. There was a sign about smoking in the small room. He stroke a match. Fire lightened his hands for a few seconds, before he blew it away. It wasn't good to look too long at the fire. It memorized about bad moments. Really bad moments.

"I should stop smoking" he muttered to himself. "After seeing what an addiction can do with a human I really should be wiser."

His hands were shaking.

"Shit. More terrible situations in my life and I will just break."

He reminded himself about Mike. The best brother that he could possibly have. The best human that he had ever met. Even if Mike was high most of the time and a prostitute, he took care of Harry. Every time the boy had to survive in this unforgiving world on his own. Mike didn't ask about the beating. Didn't expect him to give or have any answers. Didn't expect him to save them. He wanted to be the one doing saving. Mike wanted to help them all. Of course, he was mostly delusional. Living in the world of dreams. But Harry could always go to him. Get some food and warm body against him in the winters. Mike was always there for him with his quasi-wise teachings.

Harry took out another cigarette. He didn't want to give up smoking. It was something he could just do. With no problems or reasons. Without any effects, besides his own health. It calmed him down. He could stay and think for a moment. That had fantastic effects on his decisions.

"Maybe Snape was right and I shouldn't have reacted like that."

After twenty more minutes and another cigarette Harry came back to the compartment.

"I apologize for earlier" he said.

"What?" Severus looked at him over the papers.

"I am sorry for my behavior. Should I spell it out for you?"

"No."

Harry sat down. Severus was constantly looking at him.

"Jacques. Why are you living at King's Cross? I thought that you had money. As far as I remember your parents left you quite a fortune."

"Yeah. They did."

"So…"

"It's a long story."

"We have one more hour to Paris."

"All right. I won't tell you this, got that? It has to be enough that he keeps all my things closed. And I have no access to them. I have only my wand and nothing else. The key to the Gringott's vault is one of those things."

The rest of the journey Severus read his notes and Harry was quietly playing the guitar. Not before they got out of the train on Gare du Nord[1], Potter asked "Why are there so few people on the train?"

"There are quite a lot. Just not in the first-class and probably not in this direction. We have holidays. Nearly everybody wants to escape from big cities. Besides they are using planes, not trains. And the ones who actually use trains get the second-class tickets" Severus said it as it was obvious.

"Right. I knew it was something really easy" mocked Harry.

"Don't try to be sarcastic. It doesn't suit you."

Potter didn't answer.

Following Severus Snape wasn't easy. The man went quickly and didn't wait. However, Harry had a lot of experience in doing it.

The car had waited for them. Harry watched the pictures of Paris through the windows. He was near heart attack when he saw the hotel in front of which the driver had stopped.

"How much money does a Potion Master make?"

"A good Potion Master? From patents around five million galleons a year."

"Fuck. Now I get why you all meets in hotels like that."

They got in.

"Good afternoon, Master Snape" an old man greeted them.

"Good afternoon, Mister Dumont. You look as good as always."

"And you look much better than during last twenty years, Severus. I see you brought a friend with yourself. Another uncommon thing."

"Yes. This is Jacques Orwell."

"Mister Dumont" Harry nodded.

"Young Potion Master?"

Harry laughed

"No. My specialty is Theory of Magic."

"At university?"

"Actually no. I prefer to work on my own. I am not exactly good at dealing with people. However, I could point out at least four little breaks in your barriers."

"Are you building barriers, Mister Orwell?"

"No, sir. Just maintaining most of the time. "

Severus was looking at Potter a bit surprised, but he tried not to show it.

"Four breaks you say, Mister Orwell. I shall fix them" said Dumont. "Alexis will take you to your room."

"Jean Baptist, if I could ask, we would like to drive to the centre. We have some shopping to do."

"Of course. He will be waiting for you, Severus. And one more thing. Je ne sais pas comment tu t'en es emparé mais peu de gens sont capables de rattraper leur retard en aussi peu de temps. C'est un bon observateur.[2]

Severus looked at his old friend. Jean Baptist just told him that Potter was able to notice something to quickly for normal man. The moment they closed the door in their room Potter asked, looking around fascinated:

"What does it mean 'emparé"? I don't know this word… This room is…wow. Incredible. Absolutely amazing!" he sat on the bed. "I've never seen anything like that."

"You know French" it wasn't a question.

"Well. A bit. Not like you probably, but I do understand most of it, when it is not spoken to fast."

"How?"

"I had been learning in a muggle school and was quite good at it. I love to learn the languages. It had been another ability, which I needed to run away. Of course, only in my dreams. I didn't stop learning French after going to Hogwarts. I didn't want to lose this ability, even if it was only a stupid stubbornness."

"How did you know about breaks?"

"When you live on the streets, you learn quite a few things. When I was a kid and worked for the first time in the docs, I was Mister Amont's favorite message boy. Quick and not asking questions. You know who is he?"

Of course he knew. He worked for the man for a long time. Only docs would employ children. For messaging, for carrying smaller, less valuable boxes, for cleaning. He hated the job. Especially, when sometimes the sailors-smugglers would drink and kill each other. Cleaning blood was disgusting. He answered calmly nonetheless.

"Yes. The guy who is responsible for keeping aurors out of the docs."

"Exactly. He uses wards and stuff. I used to help him. Before I grow up enough to carry boxes. I still help him sometimes though. I liked it, so I read about Arithmacy and stuff. Quite a lot. But I didn't think that I should do it at Hogwarts. It would be kind of strange for me to know such things. And don't worry. I am not going to say anyone that you were wrong about me." during his speech he looked around carefully. "I doubt that anyone would bet on me knowing these. The most of my teachers probably think that I don't know anything at all. But I don't give a damn."

"Pathetic, Jacques. Really pathetic."

"Yeah. It's. I don't care."

"That is the one thing I do know" sarcasm was nearly tangible.

"I hate you sometimes" muttered Potter.

"Only sometimes?"

"You haven't deserved being really hated by me."

"Who did? Mister Malfoy?"

"He? No. He is amateur" Potter wasn't concentrated on the dialog at all.

"All right. The end of this stupid conservation. You seem not to think about it. Put this bag in the wardrobe. I will unpack, when we come back."

"Sure thing, Severus."

"Get up, Jacques" Snape ignored that Potter used his name for the first time. "We have to go, if we want to buy you the clothes."

"Right" Harry stood up.

* * *

[1] From French „North Station", one of the biggest train station in Paris

[2] I don't know, from where you ran across this boy, but few people is able to notice those shortcomings in such short time. He is really good observer. (I don't know French at all, but I hope it's good. My friend from France wrote the translation.)

**Remember that reviews are good for me. Feedback on the language even better (especially, if I make some stupid mistakes over and over again).**

**K.**


	3. C is for Crime

**So, I wrote a test today and I thought that it would be nice to take a break and give me and you something. My solution was little chapter. I hope it is not too statistical ;) (it happens sometimes with my writings when I write too many reports/analyses/etc.). So here we go.**

**K.**

**Chapter III : "C" is for Crime**

_(In which Harry Potter is irritated, past is reminded, the things are getting heated and complicated, Severus is thinking everything through, despite of being nearly furious or depressed or both and the 'boys' eat a dinner with two professors)_

The fourth hour. How could Snape do this to him? Severus, not Snape, but whatever. He was irritated. It was the sixth jacket, he had to try. And Severus looked like he enjoyed it. The shop assistant brought another one.

"Please, try that one, sir" she smiled at him.

She was too nice. Much too nice. As if she wanted… Not possible. He spoke French not well enough to understand everything, what she had on her mind. And he didn't know the meaning of certain combination of words. From Severus' expression he read that the woman was a bit too friendly.

"And what does your father think?" she asked, when Harry put on another set of clothes.

"Severus is not my father" he snarled.

"Oh" she blushed. "I'm sorry."

From this moment she stopped being overly friendly. When they got finally out, Harry was nearly furious. The comment she had made, when Severus had been paying.

"I should've killed her."

"What did she say to you?"

"Not your bloody business."

"Perhaps, but you're annoyed, and that involves me. I have to stay with you."

"She asked me, if you are using me and if I want her to help me. She was much too close. And too nice."

"She was young and pretty. What the hell did you want? Not to try and hit to you?"

"Hell no. She was a woman."

That shut Severus up. After two minutes he asked "Could you say the last two sentence again?"

"Which sentences? Those 'Hell no. She was a woman.' Don't look so shocked. I am gay. And I don't exactly care what you think about it. Well, actually I don't care about anyone's opinion about me being gay. However" he added seeing that Severus wanted to say something "I would not like it, if this was announced on the first page of The Prophet. And don't even try to judge me. You brought me here as your bloody life partner or whatever."

"I wasn't going to. And I won't say anything. However, the staff though always that you and Miss Granger…"

"What? Ron would probably kill me. I have enough of girls, especially after Cho Chang. And I really hated it."

"What? The shopping?"

"Yes."

Snape laughed slightly.

"I noticed."

"And she was staying too close."

"I understand. I don't like it either."

"Really? I thought that you amused yourself."

"I don't like shopping for myself. And it was amusing to see your irritated expression. And her efforts to interest you."

"Thanks a lot."

They reached the hotel.

"Put your things in the wardrobe. We have two hours before the supper starts. And we both have to take a shower. I will go first, when you will be unpacking."

"Right."

Harry had never had so many clothes. Trousers, shirts, jeans, jackets, dress robes, shoes. Snape bought all of those. He should've stayed at the King's Cross. There were no problems, no obligations. Life went on calmly and without real progress. He could rely only on himself, working and doing whatever he wanted. It wasn't easy life, but it was his. Well, his body hurt nearly always. He had no home, besides Hogwart. He wasn't sure, if he would stay alive or have anything to eat the next day, but he managed it all alone. Without anybody. Without pity. He was too damn proud. And yet he allowed Snape to take him from his peaceful oasis. 'Peaceful' would be an understatement for anyone, who didn't live there, but for him it was much safer than Privet Drive 4. He put his last clothes to the wardrobe, just as Severus walked out of the bathroom.

Harry had seen him before in muggle clothing and he knew that his professor looked much better without his everyday robes. But now Snape had only a towel around his waist. His body was so well-built. He didn't have one hair on his and despite of the muscles thin. The water drops were slowly running down his chest. His skin didn't have this yellowish shade, which gave her the protective poisons. Harry knew the fact, because sometimes he bought the medicines from his familiar Potion Master at Nocturne. The hair also didn't look greasy anymore. However, Severus had a lot of scars. Even more than Harry.

Harry quickly turned his eyes away. Severus, lost in thoughts, didn't noticed his staring. Not every day a person got to know how handsome was the 'old bat from the dungeons', when he wasn't working on his potions. It was good that he didn't like to be with any human. He didn't think that he would, or rather could, establish a normal relationship. Not after his so-called family. And rather never with someone like Severus Snape. For the love of Merlin, the man had hated him since the first meeting. Helping him did not change this. No matter how appealing his chest was.

"You can go and take a shower. But I have to ask you in order not to shave."

"Why?" Harry asked, but the answer appeared the same moment In his mind. "Don't say. I know. I'm a famous person, even in other countries. However, despite of the fact that I'm on the first page of the newspapers quite often, most people won't recognize me without seeing a scar. You want to make it even less possible."

"Wow. Jacques. You can actually think! I would never guess, seeing your failures nearly every day" the words were saturated with sarcasm. "One more question before you go. We don't you take the money from the bank, before your family takes your things away?"

"Don't you get it? I don't want to talk about it. Damn you, accept it."

"I can't. I'm your teacher."

"And former Death Eater. Why don't you tell me, how you managed to become one?"

Severus paled. In one second Harry understood that the blow had hit below the belt.

But Snape shouldn't put his too big nose into Harry's business. He had no right. But on the other hand, he couldn't do anything. He couldn't run away and he needed to cope with the situation. Angering Snape wasn't going to help him.

"Go and take a shower" Severus' voice sound steady, but Harry noticed that he barely kept his temper from erupting.  
He glared at the man for a few seconds. It wasn't his problem. Harry dealt with his family for years. Snape could go to hell for all he cared. With his blasted nosy interest in his life. But it wasn't good to antagonize the man. After all, he was much better at killing, torture and probably disposing of the bodies. Harry turned around and went to the bathroom.

Severus didn't move. When the door shut behind Potter, he sat on the bed. It would be difficult. He wasn't patient man. He wasn't also good man. And Potter… Severus understood his behavior. He was trying to defend himself from everything and everybody. He probably hated the thought of sharing his feelings and past. It was natural for those who had been abused. And Potter had been for sure. He behaved… No. It was too painful to remember. And too vivid to forget. Life does suck. He shouldn't've taken Potter with himself. It had brought every single action back. And he had thought that the past had been buried long time ago. At least he should've done it after the Dark Lord nearly killed him.

The Dark Lord... How much Severus wished that he hadn't followed the man. Young, hurt, stupid and so proud. So proud of magic. Of accomplishments. Of bright future as a researcher, Potion Master, wizard. The reality didn't hit him for a long time. But when it finally did... It was devastating. He never wanted to be a monster and that was what he turned out to be. Too ambitious, too bright for his own good. And to blind to see the fall.

Severus hid the face in his hands. He had to deal with all this. Potter was intelligent enough to know that they were in danger. He could play well. If he managed to fool them all those years, he had to be good. Or they had just fooled themselves. Trying not to see, what the boy, man, had been going through. He tried to overthrow this idea. His friends would have seen something. Or maybe not? Potter was a Gryffindor. The Slytherins were much better at solving the secrets. Granger and Weasley were only curious about the events. Could they see the feelings as well? How could he not see those? Was he so much blind with hate? Probably. That was exactly his style. But Dumbledore? McGonagall? He had seen only the Savior. But they?

On the other hand, Potter was the Savior. The Boy Who Lived. He rescued them so many times. Had anyone ever seen the desperate sixteen year old man, who tried to hide his real state? Nevertheless , he was angry at Jacques. More than ever. More than he had been, when the idiot had gone into his Pensieve. The boy may have tried to defend himself, but he had had no right to say something like that. Severus had betrayed the Dark Lord. And had paid high price for it. He had saved Potter's life many times. The arrogant idiot could've been at least a bit grateful.

Severus stood up. He could think about it again later. He started to feel hunger. And he had to choose some clothes for himself and Potter. The Savior knew probably nothing about proper clothing.

Potter walked out of the bathroom, just as Severus ended dressing up.

"Here are your clothes. Wear them" he said. Potter nodded, but he didn't move. "Do you want to eat?" Severus snarled.\

"Look…I really wanted to… apologized. I shouldn't've…"

"You're damn right. You had no right to answer me like that. I'm trying to help you. Dress. I won't lose my supper because of you" but Potter didn't move even then. "What else do you want?"

"I wanted to thank you. For taking me from the King's Cross. And for buying me food and clothes. Nobody has done that much for me. Ever."

Severus nodded. His fury weakened. Potter probably was as angry as himself. The boy wouldn't trust an adult quickly. Severus understood that. And he understood the motive behind apologies. Potter obviously was scared. With a man that hated him in a foreign country. He couldn't even run away. He couldn't really do anything without bringing attention to them. And he was scared because of it. Severus understood that perfectly.

"Alright. Now dress and we can go for a supper."

Thirty minutes later they both walked down to the restaurant. Harry was dressed impressively. The newest suit made him look mature and more handsome than he ever thought possible. They sat at one of the tables. The restaurant was designed with as much taste as the rest of the hotel. Harry looked around.

"You like it, don't you?" in Severus word's was an echo of irony.

"Yes, Severus. I do. Who wouldn't?"

"Point."

The waiter came to their table.

"Mister Snape, Mister Orwell. I am Kevin Nelligan and I will be serving you" he said in French and gave them menus.

"Thank you, Kevin. Would you give us a moment?"

"Of course, sir."

The young man walked away.

"What would you like, Jacques?" asked Snape.

"I don't know nearly any of those names. I have never put much effort to remember the meals in French. I haven'texpected to use them."

"Shall I choose?"

"I would be grateful."

Severus quickly search the menu and ordered two full dinners and wine. The meal was delicious.

"So, what will I be doing here?"

"Going with me to the lectures. They will be mostly boring for you, but I don't suppose I can let you go around unprotected."

"I would never think that I will land on the International Congress of the Potion Masters. Especially with you. The destiny likes to play with me, but given my records in the class…"

"Do tell, Jacques. I would really like to hear it."

"You're impossible."

"Don't worry too much. I think I should also show you at least the most important monuments of the Paris. However, don't think you will be entertained all the time."

"Why would you do this?"

"Most of my colleagues would think that is strange, if I hadn't showed you my favorite city. And they will for sure ask about it."

In this moment someone said cheerfully:

"Severus, my old friend. Do I see wrong or you really brought some handsome young man with yourself. I didn't believe, when Jean Baptist told me so."

In front of them stood an old man. His hair was white and on the face were a lot of wrinkles. He was tall and thin. From his face radiate strange joy and energy. He was accompanied by a woman, a bit younger than him. She was remarkably similar to McGonagall in the way of staying and walking. Although, she had to be older than the transfiguration professor.

"Yes, Nikolaus. I brought a friend. This is Jacques Alexander Orwell" Harry stood up greeted the old man.

"No need to greet, Jacques. I'm Nikolaus Grindelwald. The infamous Gellert Grindelwald is my uncle. And this is my wife. Adele."

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

"I assure you that it's a pleasure for us" said Adele. "Can we sit with you two, Severus?"

"Of course, Adele" Severus put her a chair.

"So, my friend. As I heard you have quite interesting friend" started Adele. "I would really like to know, how did you, young man, notice those tiny breaks? You see, I am the professor of the Theory of Magic and I did personally all those wards."

Harry blushed and started talking to Adele about his experience, twisting and changing the truth, so it would fit his momentary needs.

**That's it for today. Read, review, don't kill me for my English.**


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